


Hannibal: Writing Prompts

by wecarryoninmindpalaces



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Hannibal is a Cannibal, Hannigram - Freeform, Kinda stand alone, M/M, MurderHusbands, Will Knows, crackish, oneshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-08 00:31:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3189056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wecarryoninmindpalaces/pseuds/wecarryoninmindpalaces
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bunch of oneshots, each chapter is the basis of the writing prompt. Probably will all be Hannigram/MurderHusbands junk, with some crackish behavior.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "You Need to Stop Leaving Dead Bodies in My Kitchen"

"You need to stop leaving dead bodies in my kitchen."

Will's tone was flat, he knew Hannibal would eventually remove it, but he still felt it needed to be said. 

The cannibal only nodded in complacency, flicking his eyes in Will's general direction before going back to disposing of the body. The body of one Dr. Frederick Chilton, who had been on both men's hitlist for quite some time, for varying crimes in their eyes. Will wanted him dead for destroying what was left of his sanity for the sake of proving Hannibal wrong. Hannibal wanted him dead to prove a point.

Chilton had bled out on the floor in his office. Hannibal had sneaked them out in the dead of night to Wolftrapp, where he knew Will would bear no mind to a mutilated corpse. 

"We should leave tonight, Will." Hannibal's accent was still thick with bloodlust, he hadn't come down from his godly high just yet. "And leave Jack a clue." he handed Will a paring knife from one of the drawers.

The younger man twirled the small knife around his fingers. The "should" was a lie. "We  _have_ to leave tonight," he ground out, "you've left no choice." he aimed the knife into the top of Chilton's exposed back, it stuck with a sickening slick sound, before kneeling to slide it down until the small of the back. Hannibal only grinned.

The house was spotless by sunrise, everything in its place, almost as if Will had overslept and left in a tornado of panic to make it to work at an acceptable time. The car was disposed of via Craigslist weeks ago, the dogs all placed for adoption at the ASPCA around the same time, nothing else was really needed but Will's passport and the profiler himself. Clothes would be bought with cash, packed into Hannibal's suitcase, who had already stated to Jack a leave of absence for personal reasons, and flown out with them to Europe, wherever they ended up depended on the smallest layover time in London's Heathrow Airport. 

Jack found Chilton only a month after Hannibal and Will's disappearance. He sent out a very lengthy, and very panicked, e-mail asking for the men to return and bring Chilton's killer to justice. The e-mail was rejected and stated the account had been closed. 


	2. "What do I do? He's been there all day."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dialogue only.

"What do I do? He's been there all day."

"Can you blame him? He's mortified!" 

"Would you be repulsed as well, Alana?" 

"...I suppose. Not everyone is like him, Hannibal, if I were Will I'd have given up a long time ago."

"He's not getting any closer to answer, he will surely lose his mind if he continues this reckless behavior." 

"Go talk to him then!"

* * *

"Will?" 

"Hm." 

"You are chasing a dream." 

"...A very real dream. What else can be said about that?" 

"You can only go so far. Come back to reality, come back to  _me_." 

"I can't let this go, don't you see?! There's a pattern! I know there is- now let me find it!" 

"You won't find it because it does not exist, this is all a rouse by someone who wishes you incapacitated and I will not idly stand by and watch this behavior unravel you, and neither will Alana."

"...You aren't the Ripper, are you, Hannibal." 

 

 

 

 

"No, Will, though sometimes I do fear I could be." 

 

 


	3. Fine Art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm not a mess, I'm modern art."

"Hannibaaaal!"

That was never a good sound. The crow of his name and the thump of clumsy feet slipping their way down the staircase and into the foyer. Before he knew it, the good doctor found his partner standing in the threshold of the kitchen in nothing but his briefs. Good morning, indeed.

"Hm?" was Hannibal's only response, attempting a look of surprise.

A hiss spewed from Will's mouth, "Where are my clothes?"

"Somewhere in the compost bag under the garden." was his nonchalant reply from the kitchen table.

"And what am I supposed to wear to work now?" the younger man shifted his hips, his hip bone popping out from under the Calvin Klein waistline.

"You could finally wear some of the clothes I bought for you. The socks and underwear only count when we're alone." he rose from his chair to face his lover with a flicker of a smile, "They suit you better."

Will frowned, though it was more of a pout, returning upstairs with Hannibal not too far behind. "I liked my old ones."

"You liked them because they were all you could afford, I hate to say that." he started pulling sweaters and dress pants from the closet and laid them on the bed, "The shoes I could salvage."

"Salvage?" Will huffed as he wrestled his way into an undershirt.

"Resoled, polished, and reshaped. They look almost new if you didn't know the work a cobbler." he held up different shades of beige, navy, and black, "I didn't remove your clothes from Wolftrapp. Just the ones you have migrated here. Try this on, Will." and handed off a navy sweater and a pair of khakis. "You always dress so old. You're not even forty and your facial structure does not appear so either. You look as though you're playing dress up in your father's closet." Will puffed his cheeks out for good measure before Hannibal chucked an overcoat from Burberry in his direction, almost knocking the wind out of him. "It's cold out today and if you don't hurry you're going to be late."

Will hated to admit it that Hannibal was right as he shrugged his way into his new sweater, he looked good. "Yes Hannibal, I do look my age now. ...Thank you." he kissed the older man's cheek before slinging his satchel across his back and feeling around for- "Hannibal where are my- oh." and fished his keys out of the catch-all on the island along with his reading glasses.

Hannibal only shook his head, his lips pursed together in a small, almost sympathetic, smile. "Whatever shall I do with you, my precious boy?"

The younger man grinned, "Love me forever- and _not_ eat me."

"You truly are a mess, Will Graham."

Will feigned offense, "I'm not a _mess_ , I'm modern art."

They were at the doorway now, Hannibal's hand on Will's bicep as Will leaned against the heavy entryway, "And truly my most prized piece. I will see you later at the beaurrou," and gave a chaste kiss before Will bounded out the door to his Nissan in the driveway. 

Hannibal never waved from the door or the window when Will drove off, he claimed it too domestic. However, he did hang up the missing pieces of clothing back where they belonged- except for Will's flannel buttonup. It would eventually be returned, but until it could be stored, with Will in it, inside the bedroom of his mind palace it would stay hidden with Hannibal's maze of a closet.


End file.
